Jaded
by La Voz de Alma
Summary: She couldn’t decide if tonight was simply not about love, or entirely about love."


_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

The heavy mantle of sleep was starting to slip from Lieutenant Nyota Uhura and the cold sterling of starlight crept into her consciousness. Only the glow of the Enterprise's hull and the heavens beyond illuminated the monochromatic officer's quarters. Her existence seemed only black and white now, smoothing the silvery sheets with her dark hands. The minimal furniture in the room cut harsh silhouettes onto otherwise benign surfaces. The stillness was almost alarming, even the hum of the ship seemed distant. She wasn't alone though. Perched on a rigid footstool and vulnerably nude, a pale form gazed into nothingness before the expansive window.

She stole from the cooling bed, padding softly on the thin carpet. As Nyota approached the stilled form, she extended an elegant hand before her. Commander Spock's skin was deceptively smooth. Under the harsh artificial lighting of the Enterprise, it usually looked unfairly pallid and dull. Tonight, though, the pale jade luminescence emanating from within glowed eerily in the platinum light. Even now her fingers anticipated the serene surface to be cold and hard, like an expertly crafted jewel. Instead, her fingertips grazed hot, velvety flesh. It was startling, but she dared not pull away. She pressed firmly, comfortingly against Spock's shoulder.

A long moment passed before a large, fair hand met hers, drifting over the surface of her much smaller one. Leaning into his warmth, she pressed her cheek to his temple, looking out into the star-punctuated expanse before her. It seemed wholly selfish to enjoy her still new sense of awe. Nyota wanted to take the burden of his great loss, share in its weight. Spock pulled her hand from his bare shoulder, bringing it to his lips. Nyota could not resist gasping as he marked her palm with a hot kiss, then he pressed it to his face.

A long, tensing shudder coursed down his back, the tight musculature flexing as if preparing to lunge. Nyota had seen this once before, like the first strike of lightening before a tumultuous storm. When it came to Spock, she understood that he was not without emotions. Rather, it was difficult not drown in them. 'Lightening in a bottle,' she mused. It was only through his trained will that he was able to contain his intense passions.

It was startling to see the telltale spasm, nearly undetectable to a casual observer. Nyota had watched this very action play out once before in her companionship with the Vulcan. During his last Pon Farr, she had been in his company; it was then she witnessed the involuntary impulse before he could no longer maintain control. Despite the ferocity of the encounter, Nyota was overwhelmed with pride that Spock had entrusted her with such a private experience.

Now, the urge to seek out his contact points, to connect with him, was difficult to contain. It was a selfish desire, and she chided herself for it. The few times they had melded were in moments of shared joy or passion, not loss and sadness. Nyota pressed more firmly against Spock, and was once more startled by the electricity passing beneath his pale greenish skin. He must have felt her involuntary shock this time. Grasping her wrist, he pulled her before him, her form a dark silhouette against the universe.

Nyota could not tear her eyes from him, seeing neither a self-restrained Vulcan nor an emotive human. Instead, Spock's dilated eyes, glistening like black marbles, revealed something darker, more primal…more animal-like. His grip on her wrist was so hot, she wondered if it could burn; imaging the side-glances of crew trying to catch a look of the large hand-print marked on her skin.

Normally, she would have felt overdressed as she stood in her nightgown, he uncharacteristically without a shred of cloth. Vulcans were known for their physical modesty, but Spock sat before her confidently nude and clearly aroused. Now, even in her nightgown however, she felt more than naked; exposed. He could see into her, through her; Spock was searching her for something. Pulling her close he placed his fingertips on her contact points; the space around Nyota reeled before her, his finger pads burnishing her cheek and her soul.

A wash of need filled her, maybe her own, but mostly his. Spock's tangible connection to everything he held sacred kept crumbling inside, disappearing into the blackhole that was once Vulcan. The whirl of his feelings nearly bowled Nyota over; Vulcan's were a passionate people, their emotions cut so deep into their psyche they seemed to pass through them and into the universe itself. Her breathing was rapid and blood rushed in her ears; then the ringing stopped. It was like the first breath after descending from warp.

She saw herself through his eyes, smelled herself through his olfactory perceptions. Nyota had never grown quite accustom to seeing herself in his vision. Inside of Spock's consciousness she felt his panic and devastation; and his need tumbling over, threatening to break his levies of reason. "What do you need?" she had pleaded in the turbo lift. In his memory he wondered how she could have known what he was thinking, as she is not a telepath. Her lips had caressed his face, his lips and he let himself fall into her momentarily. He desired nothing else, but her warmth. 'She is all I have left of my human self,' he repeated to himself, resisting his more primitive need to reclaim her as he did during Pon Farr.

Nyota felt nauseous, not from his admission, but from her powerlessness. A flash of guilt crept across his face. Grasping his other hand, she forced him to connect to her more deeply. She understood how dangerous this intense meld could be, but she ached too much for Spock to deny him. As his hands grazed her face, she was lost. In the whirlpool of their united soul, they expressed a shared breath, then another. Nyota was relieved as Spock released himself from his guilt; finding nothing but unrelenting love in his partner.

He willed her closer, and in response, she leaned into his space. The cool waterfall of her nightgown grazed his knees, eliciting a deep guttural moan from Spock's chest. Nyota lifted one knee, sliding along side of his thigh; then shifted her weight onto it. She repeated the action, straddling his lap. The cascade of her silken nightgown teased against the fiery surface of Spock's skin. Even as his physical desired manifested even more painfully, Nyota felt a greater course of need swirl inside her own body; the diminished boundary between their essences was now completely irrelevant.

Spock's hands drifted along the course of Nyota's face, neck and rounded over her shoulders. Their journey blazed a heated path against her smooth arms, stopping to entangle his fingers with hers. Even though his hand's no longer probed her contact points, Nyota still felt Spock inside of her mind – and soul. Through his fingertips she could feel his yearning, as a starving man craving sustenance. Perhaps that is what she was to him: food for his soul, the end to his hungry.

Spock's heat was tangible in the space between their bodies. Nyota's heart was racing; blood seemed to surge and rush in her head, like tidal waves of scarlet fury. His hands were suddenly on her hips, the tips pressing deeply into her soft flesh through the all-too-thin fabric. Pulling her down onto his lap, his erection felt like a branding iron against her body. She thought of the only other time she remembered his penis so hard.

A chill descended down Nyota's spine as his finally spoke, "Du bolau-veh." The words were barely audible, but she could feel them pounding in her head, 'I need you, I need you…' An erratic mantra repeating in time with her pounding heart, she braced herself. She couldn't decide if tonight was simply not about love, or entirely about love. Spock's thoughts were overwhelming, and she resigned herself to them. Then, with encouragement, she ground her pelvic bone against his straining erection. Simultaneously they each hissed at the friction.

Spock leaned forward, burying his face into the curve of Nyota's neck. She shuddered as he breathed her in deeply; he was immersing himself into her essence. Dropping a hand into his lap, his fingers absently grazed the edge of her nightgown. The thought of Spock's hand caressing the boundary between them seemed inseparable from his mind teasing the division between her sanity and complete oblivion. Burning lips pressed to her neck, just where her pulse raced beneath the surface. She squeaked a tiny inhalation as his hand ventured beneath the tissue-thin garment.

Nyota wondered if he too would become as dizzy as she had; frantic sparks of arousal dancing across her skin, now pebbled and hyper-sensitized. The friction in the air between his hand and her thigh was enough to create another pulse of desire from her womb. A rebellious thumb broke through the sexual static; the pressure on Nyota's skin seemed to initiate a series of quakes just below her follicles. Vaguely she wondered if her body would erupt before Spock's fingers met their intended destination.

A flood of moisture spilled down the inside of her thigh. The smell of her arousal elicited a feral moan from deep in his chest. The hard glint of teeth against her neck momentarily pulled Nyota from her euphoric cloud. 'You would have already marked me if this were Pon Farr,' she thought openly. She was regarded with a dark chuckle, 'Perhaps, I am simply not ready…yet.' It wasn't love, nor was it malice that answered her curiosity. "Aitlun, k'diwa," his words were like crimson honey sliding across a hot griddle. 'Desire…yes, I understand', she thought, her head rolling backwards. Her neck and breasts now completely exposed to him.

He pulled her tight against his unbelievably painful hardness. The sensation of her wetness through the now silly nightgown challenged his waning self-control. His other hand lifted from her hip and grasped at the yolk of the nightgown. Nyota saw the shining smile spread over his lips, the ferocity in his eyes…then he growled. It was the same as before, a boiling announcement of animalistic impatience. The garment shredded like tissue paper, the remnants pooling around her feet like celebratory confetti.

With both hands now firmly grasping her thighs, Spock maneuvered Nyota above him. Evidence of her excitement dripped onto the swollen head of his engorged penis. Positioning himself just under her entrance, he looked intensely into her eyes. Pain, loss, need, desperation: emotions otherwise concealed by his steeled expression played across his face like long, painful sonnets. He plunged into her, sheathing himself into the last space he felt belonging. Reaching for his shoulders, Nyota's fingers dug into his strong deltoids, grasping for something tangible.

After a few furiously uneven strokes they found a mutual rhythm. Lifting his hips from the creaking footstool, she met him with a hard roll of her hips; grinding her clitoris into his pelvic bone for much needed friction. 'So deep…almost too deep,' she thought without regard. Pulling a hand from her hips, Spock buried it into her hair, seeking purchase. 'I need you, I need this…' the words flooded every molecule in Nyota's being.

'I need you to be mine... again…please…give this to me,' Spock begged. Once more Nyota extended her neck, leaving her body completely exposed to him. Bowing gracefully, and without breaking his fierce pounding into her hungry awaiting sheath, he found the delicate crease along the inside of her breast. He gently licked and kissed a tender line of penitence before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.

Crying out in pain and ecstasy, Nyota dug her fingernails into Spock's shoulders; dark emerald splashes pooled around the depressions. Biting deep into her shoulder, he howled, plunging as hard as possible into his writhing mate. A surge of her sweet, tangy moisture seeped from the apex of their union. Pulling his hands from Nyota's body, Spock grasped both sides of the footstool, gaining new leverage as he lifted his hips entirely off of the padded surface. Her knees squeezed painfully into the tender flesh at his waist, holding her body tightly against his. The frantic rhythm of his heart against her thigh sent erratic tendrils of hungry desire coursing through her entire body, her mouth now dry.

'Fam kamihn…maut Vuhlkansu…,' Nyota did not often make the distinction between Spock's human and Vulcan identities, resolving him to be unique entirely. However, as during Pon Farr, on this night his passions which were solely Vulcan could only be understood as such. Tonight he was totally, and completely Vulcan; she did not resist the flood of alien emotions pouring into her, knowing that to accept them would strengthened their bond. Her back bowed as her climax took her. A storm of white cresting stars boiled in her belly, spreading to the tips of her fingers and toes. For a moment all was silent, leaving nothing but their unbreakable union. Then just as it the silence came, it was gone, and the thunderous roar of blood surged in her ears once more.

Spock, experiencing her orgasm, threw his head back, howling just as he had during the height of plak-tau. He slowed his rhythm momentarily, just long enough to lower their bodies to the floor, and rolling her atop him. Finding renewed enthusiasm in her release, Nyota reached for his hands. With her palms flat against his she laced their fingers together. She leaned back, offering him an unobscured view of her body. His teeth glinted brightly as his lips curled back into a wicked smile. Pulling his feet under his body, he resumed his rhythm, she meeting his thrusts in counter-rhythm, using his knees for greater support.

He was close, and she felt his great desperation for release. Relinquishing her hands, Spock placed his flat against the bare, rough carpet, trying to stabilize their efforts as his orgasm began to boil heavily in his testicles. Grasping for his chest, Nyota smiled an evil smile, matching his. She knew what he needed. 'Do it…yes, ashayam…' he begged in anticipation. Brushing her finger through the soft thatch of hair on his well-toned chest, her nails elegantly broke the surface of his skin. Raking their sharpness down his torso, fine green lines emerged in their wake; his hips surged upward – hard. He pumped shallowly against her pelvis as hot streams of semen flooded her womb, her vagina spasming greedily with her own final climax. With a ragged last thrust, Spock collapsed on the floor.

Nyota waited several long moments, before lifting herself from his body. Hers protested, limbs shaking with adrenaline. She crawled against his body, hungry for his warmth, her leg slumped over his stilled frame and her head tucked under his arm. Spock craned his neck to the side, kissing the top of her head, and then looked towards the ceiling, releasing a deep sigh. "What do you need?" she asked once more. There was nothing but his calmed breathing for many minutes.

Nyota looked up to see a crystalline tear cut down the side of Spock's cheek. He sighed again, and then smiled warmly at her, "Only you, k'diwa." She pressed against him, nuzzling her face into the side of his chest. "I will always be here, and will always be yours," she spoke the words, but knew it was not necessary. His fingers grazed her cheek softly and a spark of recognition flickered in her soul before they together slipped into a dreamless slumber.


End file.
